Happy Birthday, Barry
by steepedinshadows419
Summary: 4x16 - Iris wakes Barry up at midnight on his birthday. Barry/Iris. One-shot.


A/N: Commissioned by minnie2697 on tumblr, who actually calculated that Barry's bday would take place at the end of 4x16. Bravo, girl. I hope you all enjoy!

*Many thanks to sendtherain for beta'ing.

*I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

...

After hours of writing, the pizza had grown cold under its lid with the passage of time. Iris felt a yawn escape her and realized how late it had gotten.

11:55pm.

"Oh, God," she muttered to herself. "I need to get to bed."

She shut her laptop down at exactly 11:57pm when she realized what day it would be in exactly three minutes. Not what day of the week, but the _day_, and its significance.

Barry's birthday.

She knew he'd protest and say 29 wasn't a big year, but secretly he'd hope there was a party in store. She scolded herself for forgetting until almost the minute of his birthday, but the last couple of days had been pretty chaotic, what with her getting Barry's speed and all. As bad as it had been for her, trying to adjust, she knew it had been killing him not to have his speed. The evidence was clear as day when he returned with pizza, practically glowing because he'd used his super speed to get it.

As fun as it had been to run around with super speed and make a difference that way, nothing could compare to the warmth spreading through her when she saw how happy he was to have it back and use it. The fact that he'd been willing to give that up for her if she truly wanted it…

Well, she would definitely be giving Cisco a call or text him about the necessity of a party and hope that he'd been a better best friend than she had been a wife. If not, they'd have to work overtime, but it would be worth it.

Scrambling out of her chair and into the kitchen, Iris searched the fridge for any type of fun birthday snack. She obviously couldn't make something herself – there was no time, and it would be another complete failure; she hadn't forgotten the toast incident, even if Barry hadn't been interested in food that time. She felt hot all over and wondered if that would be the case now too. Maybe? Hopefully?

She was tired, and he was in a deep sleep probably, but somehow that never stopped them from getting it on when one or the other suggested it. She bit her bottom lip and almost closed the fridge, but she was still convinced she couldn't go up there empty-handed. He hadn't taken a single slice of pizza after all and had just gone to bed, which blew her mind because he must've been starving. No, she needed to bring food. And not pizza either. That was just…no.

Looking through the fridge one more time, she finally stopped – and gasped. Because there, almost right smack in front of her, was a cupcake. It was the last of a batch Barry had made for her when she'd had a bad day last week, and that batch had been _delicious_.

It wasn't made by her – which was probably a good thing – but she hoped he would still appreciate the gesture. She grabbed the cupcake, found a candle, stuck it in through the top and lit it. She absolutely refused to look at the time, because she knew it had to be past midnight at this point. She refused to let that bother her. She was going to carry on with this no matter what.

Slowly and steadily, she climbed the stairs, and just as she entered their bedroom, she started singing "Happy Birthday."

"Happy Birthday to you…"

No reaction.

"Happy Birthday to you…"

A slight stirring.

"Happy Birthday, dear Barry…"

"Hm, what?" he mumbled in his sleep, and she came to sit on the side of the bed.

"Happy Birthday to you."

She set the cupcake on the nightstand and leaned in to whisper into his ear.

"Happy Birthday, baby."

He turned and blinked himself awake.

"Iris?" he asked in a raspy voice.

"Mhmm." She nodded, biting her bottom lip.

"Is it…what time is it?"

Reluctantly, she looked.

"12:03 a.m. …on your birthday!" she excitedly whispered.

He watched her frozen for a moment and then chuckled.

"And what did you get me for my birthday?" he asked, running his hand down her back.

She giggled and reached for the cupcake, despite his implications.

"Your very own birthday cupcake."

He looked over to it and laughed.

"Is that…is that one of the cupcakes I made for you?" He raised his eyebrows, amused.

"It doesn't matter where it came from or who made it!" she declared, and he laughed again. "All that matters is that you accept it and make a wish and blow out the candle."

"How about you make a wish for me?" he suggested, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Nope," she refused. "You have to do it yourself. It's _your_ birthday."

He sighed and shook his head but agreed and sat up in bed.

"Fine, fine…but my wish better be granted after I make it."

_Oh, it will be_. She smirked, figuring she knew exactly what his wish would be.

He closed his eyes to make the wish, then opened them again. He glanced over at her, smiled, and blew the candle out. Setting the cupcake back on the nightstand, he looked at her once more.

"What did you wish for?" she asked with bated breath.

"Now if I told you, it wouldn't come true," he teased, moving towards her.

"You never know…I might grant your wish."

He laughed as she scooted back onto the bed.

"Oh, I'm almost certain you will," he said and stilled to wink at her. Then, without warning, he picked her up and laid her back onto the bed, her hair flaying out on the pillow and bent his head to kiss her.

"Is that what you wished for?" she asked. "A birthday kiss?"

He smirked and started to undress her. She bit her bottom lip at the sensation of his hands sneaking under her clothes to spread across her skin.

"That," he said, "And so much more."

She gasped when he kissed just above her belly button and clenched the sheets in both fists.

"Shouldn't this be the other way around? I mean, it's _your_ birthday, not mine."

"Trust me," he murmured, his mouth hovering over her moist center. "This is _exactly_ what I wished for."

Iris closed her eyes, pressed her head back into the pillow and let herself be taken.

"It's your birthday," she said, and moaned at the first flick of his tongue.

He lapped up her juices greedily before half-heartedly singing to himself, "Happy birthday to me."


End file.
